Red Rum
by theletterdee
Summary: A military serial killer by the name of Red Rum is terrorizing San Francisco, CA. Can the agents of NCIS with the help of the local PD catch him in time? ON INDEFINITE HIATUS
1. Chapter 1

**Red Rum**

**By: D**

**Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS or the characters. I DO in fact own Cynthia and the unit she works with. **

**Summery: A military serial killer by the name of Red Rum is terrorizing San Francisco, CA. Can the agents of NCIS with the help of the local PD catch him in time?**

0oo0oo0

The shrill ringing of the phone next to her ear woke Cynthia from a very deep sleep. A hand slipped out and groped around for the receiver, "'Lo?"

"_Hola_, Cyn, we've got a…interesting case. I know you were up with all-nighters on your last case, but could you come in real quick?" Taylor Anderson, Cynthia's right hand and partner, said brightly.

"Taylor, it's five o'clock in the morning," she sighed before asking, "What's the case about?"

"Two bodies, found on the beach, miles from each other, both with 'Red Rum' written in red paint on their foreheads."

"Okay?"

"Well, both of the victims are military personnel."

Cynthia sighed, wondering how helpless her unit has become at times, "Call NCIS."

"Who?"

"Look it up. Call me when they come in," hitting the end button, Cynthia slammed the receiver back in its holder, rolled over and promptly fell back asleep.

0oo0oo0

Anthony DiNozzo looked up from his paperwork and over to his partner across from him in the bullpen. He smiled, "Hey, Kate."

Caitlin Todd responded without looking up, "What, Tony."

"How far are you?"

"I don't know, Tony!" she retorted, giving Tony what he wanted. He just grinned, and then ducked his head as their boss marched into the bullpen, the ever familiar cup of coffee in one hand and a file in the other.

"Go home, take three hours to pack, be back here by 1200 hours!" he barked.

"We got a case, Boss?" Tony asked.

"Yeah, we do, Tony, details later when we get there. Go and pack!" Jethro Gibbs said.

"On it, Boss."

0oo0oo0

Detective Taylor Anderson was leaning against his car, tossing his keys up and down as he waited for the agents. He finally spotted them, "Hey! _Senores y Senorita, ven aquí._"

They walked over to him, "Detective Taylor Anderson?" the apparent leader asked.

"That's me, I just have to call my agente superior, Senor," as he said this, Taylor pulled out his cell phone and dialed Cynthia.

0oo0oo0

"What."

"_Morning to you too, me sol._"

Cynthia rolled her eyes, "Are they there?"

"Affirmative."

"Alright, they'll set up camp in my house, I have enough rooms. Oh, and Taylor?"

"Si?"

"Lay off the Spanish, you're not even in the same ethnic group, if there's a female agent, give her Anna's room" with a snap, and without waiting for a reply, Cynthia closed her cell.

0oo0oo0

Taylor smiled as he ended the call, "I'll take you to where you're supposed to stay, agents."

"Where's that?"

Taylor just smiled, "I'll take you. Courtesy of the San Francisco CSU."

0oo0oo0

Cynthia yawned as she walked through the doors of San Francisco's crime lab. She stuffed her hands into the light sweater hoodie she had on, her scuffed converses peeking out from battered jeans.

She made her way to her office, going unnoticed for the most part. Seeing that her office was empty, for at least a while, she walked in and immediately fell on the couch to nap.

0oo0oo0

The four agents looked up at the Victorian house that Taylor had parked in front of.

"Well, this is interesting," Tony quipped.

"Tony?"

"Yeah, Boss?"

"Shut up and go inside," Gibbs responded, handing Kate her bag from the truck before grabbing his own and stalking inside.

"Sure thing, Boss."

They walked inside the house and set their gear down near the coat closet that was settled underneath the large staircase to their left.

"Kitchen's right in front of you, that way," Taylor pointed, "Living room's to your right, take a left once inside there and you have the patio. Staircase is obviously, right here, I'll show you to your rooms," he led them up the staircase after they picked their gear up.

"Last door on the right is off limits, across from that is the staircase to the attic, to your immediate right is the bath room, there are two more rooms connected to their own baths, one is the master, which is the off-limits room and the other I've been told to give to the female agent," Taylor smiled, "right there, next to the master bedroom. The rest are up for grabs. Get settled, freshen up, and we'll be on our way to the crime lab."

0oo0oo0

Cynthia looked up from her mountains of paperwork to see Joyce, from the front desk, peeking into her office, "Yes?"

"Just wanted to let you know that Detective Anderson and the agents are here, ma'am, he's taking them to the break room."

"Thank you, Joyce," Cynthia gave her a small smile, "tell him I'll be there in a minute," she pushed her glasses up from where they were dangerously slipping off her nose and dutifully went back to work.

0oo0oo0

Taylor turned to Joyce as she tapped his shoulder, "Hey, Joyce!"

"What, no Spanish today?" Joyce grinned.

"Boss told me to lay off on it, since I'm not Spanish," he replied.

Joyce just smiled and murmured, "She'll join you shortly," and walked back to her desk.

Taylor just nodded and turned back to the agents, "My boss will be here in a second, and then we'll get down to business."

A few minutes later, Cynthia walked through the door, glasses still on her nose and her hoodie discarded, leaving a baby tee underneath.

"Forget your contacts today?" Taylor smiled.

Cynthia glared at him, "Can it, where's the coffee?" Taylor pointed to the pot brewing, she made a beeline to it and filled her mug, "This better be decent, Taylor."

"It is, Boss, by the way, Special Agents Jethro Gibbs, Kate Todd, Tony DiNozzo, and Tim McGee. Guys, and gal, Detective Cynthia Sutton and the fearless leader of our unit here in San Fran." Cynthia just waved as she gulped down her coffee.

Gibbs just looked at Cynthia, and then turned to Taylor, "The details of the case, now."

"Alright, alright," Taylor held up his hands, "keep your hair on, I'm gettin' to it," he stood up and turned the whiteboard around to the other side to reveal crime scene photos and other numerous things. Cynthia moved to the table and sat across from Gibbs as Taylor began, "Two naval enlisted POFC's were found washed up on the beach of the bay around four thirty in the morning. They received many bruises and lacerations from torture but our ME ruled COD was strangulation, with their hands. Across both of their foreheads was written 'Red Rum', we thought at first it was red paint, but it turned out to be carved in, postmortem."

"Any leads?" Cynthia asked.

"None so far, we're still tracking down who the POFC's were, Boss. Unfortunately, we don't know what POFC stands for."

"Petty Officer First Class, Taylor, learn your ranks for God's sake."

Gibbs hid a grin, "Anything else?"

"Not at the moment, sir."

Cynthia nodded, "Alright, identify the victims and after that we'll split up, Taylor tell Keller to ride the asses of those techs, we need anything to catch this sick bastard ASAP."

"Got it."

0oo0oo0

Tony sat next to Adam Keller, another detective, while they waited for the lab results of various tests, "So…"

"So?"

"What's the deal with your boss? She's cold," stated Tony.

Adam sighed and frowned, after a moment, he answered, "Cyn's scarred, her past is full of pain. She doesn't like to open up because she's lost too many people that she's scared of being hurt again."

"I get that, but, I mean, Gibbs is cruel and somewhat detached, but your boss is like…on autopilot."

"I'm not sure I'm the one to tell you about Cyn, Tony. You need to hear it from her, I've encountered the wrath of Cynthia and it's not a pretty picture."

Tony nodded, "Alright," and gave up for the time being.

0oo0oo0

Meanwhile, Gibbs was currently following Cynthia as she went through the labs, checking on various people and how they were doing. He shadowed her silently, quietly observing how she interacted with people and mentally calculating whether she had what it took to run a high-profile case like their current one.

"Is there something you want to ask?" Cynthia had turned around, hands resting comfortably on her hips; they were in front of a glass-walled office.

"No."

"Really? You have that look on your face," she walked inside, he followed her.

"What kind of look?"

"The kind a Marine gets when he's itching to ask a question, but can't because he's at attention," Cynthia smirked.

"You've been doing your homework," Gibbs remarked as she sat down at the desk.

"No, I just know."

He studied her for a moment, and then chuckled lightly, "Should have known…You're a Marine."

"Staff Sergeant, Desert Storm."

"Gunnery Sergeant, Desert Storm," he shook hands with Cynthia, a bond now shared between the two of them.

0oo0oo0

Hey there! It's been while since I've posted anything, I promise this will get better. This is only the intro chapter of sorts, so sorry about any confusion. Time line is the second year Kate is there.

Enjoy

D


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for the reviews! They made my day a lot lighter in my perspective.**

0oo0oo0

"Damn," Cynthia muttered, looking down from her perch on a rock above the sand. Her team, along with NCIS, were working dutifully on the scene. Above them on the road, other patrolmen were keeping the curious onlookers in check, and the slick press in line.

"Hey Boss?" Adam waved to get Cynthia's attention from where he was crouched next to the body.

"Yeah?"

"You might want to see this," he calmly stated.

She climbed down to where he was, treading carefully, and kneeled beside him, "What is it?"

"That," he pointed at the victim's forehead, "what looks wrong to you?"

"There's too much blood," she sighed, without a moment's hesitation, "He's changing his signature, a strange thing for a serial killer to do."

"Ya got something?" Gibbs yelled from where he was standing on the road.

"Yeah, something pertinent to our case, come see!"

"What is it?" he asked upon reaching them.

"Killer's changed his signature, either he's a guy more messed up than he already is or he's toying with us," Cynthia answered, "He writing 'Red Rum' ante mortem instead of postmortem."

"I think he's doing the latter."

"Me too, I'll call the coroner and ask what's taking so long, San Francisco traffic shouldn't delay them twenty minutes," she sighed, tugging off her gloves and handing them to Adam so he could bag them, "I give you permission to smack anyone misbehaving in my unit while I'm gone."

"I knew there was another reason I liked you," Gibbs grinned.

"Ha, ha, very funny."

"I'm serious."

"I was too," she smiled sarcastically.

--

"Enlarge that, Carlos, there's something on her cheek," Cynthia stood behind the lab tech, leaning over his shoulder, both of them looking at the computer screen.

"Looks like an imprint," Kate observed from the doorway.

Cynthia glanced over her shoulder and flashed a small grin, "Hey, Kate."

"Hey yourself, Cynthia, Gibbs wants an update," Kate said.

"You'd think he'd come and get it himself, where are the boys?"

"Taylor got a lead and took the two of them; McGee's working with the 911 calls with Abby, our forensic technician."

Cynthia frowned, "I wonder why Taylor didn't call to tell me he had a lead."

"Apparently," Kate smiled, "your cell is off."

"Oh," Cynthia genuinely smiled, "I guess it is," she reached down and turned it on, a second later it went off, "Autopsy, come with me?"

"Sure."

She turned to Carlos, "Enlarge and print several copies."

"You got it, Sergeant."

Cynthia and Kate left the visual lab and walked down the hallway, "Were you in the military?"

Cynthia looked at Kate, "Hm?"

"Were you in the military?" she repeated her question.

"Yeah, seems a life time ago, Staff Sergeant in the Marines. I served my six years and got out."

They exited the glass-walled crime lab and started walking on the breezeway connecting the building to the two story medical examiner's office building.

"What's it like working for Gibbs?"

"He's demanding," they shared a smile, "Gibbs' prior service too, once a Marine…"

"Always a Marine," Cynthia finished with her, "yeah, my previous unit said I was like that, always gruff and cold."

"What changed?"

"I met Anna, she became my best friend, something I hadn't had in a long time," cold air gusted them as they entered the morgue. Classical music was being blasted from a CD player as an older man was stooped over a body.

"Harper!" Cynthia shouted over the music.

The man turned around, a quizzical expression on his long face. He was just over 6'4", his shocking white hair added another three inches, due to it sticking up in odd places. He had a lanky, sort of bony body structure and his glasses perched on a hooked nose magnified his wide eyes, making him look more like a mad scientist rather than the resident medical examiner, "That you, Cindy?"

She reached over and turned off the music, "Yes, Harper, it's me. Kate, Doctor Mac Harper, our ME, Harper, Special Agent Kate Todd, NCIS. What do you have on our victim?"

"Similar to the other victims, I'm afraid. Also, nice to meet you, Kate," Harper smiled, "An obvious difference is the message on her forehead, ante mortem instead of post. This young lady was beaten most severely, worse than the other two and she was strangled with an unknown item. I do know that it is something smooth, no impression marks."

"Thanks, Harper," Cynthia said as he handed her the autopsy report, "Hopefully we won't have to send anymore your way."

"I'll hold onto that hope, Cindy, you shouldn't either. I know these past weeks have been hard but we're all here for you, don't forget that."

"I won't," she answered quietly, flashing one last smile, Cynthia and Kate left the morgue.

"What was that about?" Kate asked once they were in the breezeway.

"Remember Anna?"

"Yeah."

"She was my best friend, I met her while I was heading the Major Crimes Unit, and I wasn't the nicest person. We became fast friends and were never seen without each other outside of work," Cynthia sighed.

"What happened?"

"I…I was doing one last case for Major Crimes, a bust. Undercover at a stripper club and I was the only female able to go, it was a success. Anna and I were walking along and talking; being girls…A SUV came around the corner and opened fire on us. I ducked; Anna didn't, at least not fast enough. She died in my arms…"

"This only happened a couple weeks ago?" Cynthia nodded in response, "Wouldn't they force you on personal leave?"

"I chose not to go, I still had a unit to run, after I switched to Crime Scene, and cases came up." Her cell phone chirped, "Sutton."

"_Hey, Boss, you, uh, might want to come down to this address…_" Taylor relayed the address to Cynthia.

"Why do you need me?"

"_Something pertinent to the case, Gibbs says to bring Todd down with you_."

"Alright, Taylor," she hung up the phone and turned to Kate, "Our lead turned out to be a good thing."

--

"Who owns this studio?"

"The guy left a fake name," Tony answered as all of them looked around the room in shock.

Almost all of the walls were plastered with pictures of Cynthia, along with numerous bulletin boards that stood on their own. Some of the pictures where of when she was young, there were ones when she graduated high school, joined the Marines, when she graduated from the police academy. What were most interesting to the NCIS team were the pictures of Cynthia at her wedding.

Her normally coffee colored corkscrew curls were straightened and pulled into a bun, her hazel eyes laughed in the photo, the white dress contrasted with her olive skin. Most of all, Cynthia was truly happy.

"Told you she looked like Melina Kanakaredes, Probie," Tony grinned at McGee, who just rolled his eyes in return.

"Taylor, I want to you to track down this bastard," Cynthia ordered in a shaky voice, "after you do that, give me ten minutes with him."

"Will do, Boss," he answered, placing a hand on her shoulder as she stared at two pictures, one with Anna and the other with her husband.

"Collect all the pictures and bring them back to the lab," Cynthia told Adam, "I'll be in my office," she turned and walked out, her head down, trying to hide the tears.

"You heard the lady," Adam snapped at some of the rookies, "bag and tag the pictures."

As they watched the rookies start on the long process of collecting all the photographs, Tony and Kate stood off to the side.

"I wonder what's wrong with Cynthia," Tony voiced.

"She suppressed a lot of painful memories, Tony; with the pictures they've rushed her thoughts and her heart."

"So she's got some demons to take care of."

"Yes."

"Oh."

--

They had collected all of the photos, dusted them, and went over every single one with nothing to gain. No fingerprints, no DNA, nothing. Cynthia decided that they could do no more until another lead came in and that sleep would do them all some good.

The unit and the NCIS team parted ways, not wanting to think about the game that they would now have to play.

The game of waiting.

--

Even though it was only slightly crisp weather in San Francisco, a fire was going at the Sutton residence. The house's owner was sitting in front of it, staring into the flaming tongues, silent.

Cynthia almost jumped a mile high when a calloused hand rested on her shoulder, lightning quick, she turned, only to see Gibbs staring at her, "You always sneak up like that?"

"I wasn't sneaking, I made enough noise to wake Tony up, and you just didn't hear me. Beer?" he held out the still cold bottle of amber colored liquid.

"Sure, why not, tomorrow's Saturday, no work," she took the bottle from Gibbs as he sat down beside her on the floor, "Why are you up?"

"I could ask you the same question, to answer yours, I can't sleep."

"To answer yours," Cynthia mimicked, "I'm having nightmares again."

"'Bout what?"

"Desert Storm."

"I see," he sighed and gulped down some of the beer, "I do to."

"I had so many buddies lost, I felt the survivor's guilt, I felt the white hot hatred for those who took their lives, and I felt the sick relief that I wasn't one of the ones who was left out there in the desert until the gunfire ceased."

"I know."

"I mean, peace can't happen without war, I just don't see why so many lives have to be sacrificed for a cause that sometimes is completely stupid."

"But, if that sacrifice isn't made, so many other lives would be lost in the bloodshed."

She thought about that for a while, "Good point."

He smiled and she smiled back, he then nudged her with his shoulder, "That's not all that's bothering you, is it?" Cynthia sighed, only making him pursue it, "You don't have to hold it all in, you know."

"I know," she dropped the empty bottle onto the line where carpet met the brick of the fireplace with a faint 'chink!' "It's just hard."

"Anymore hard to talk about combat?"

"Yeah, kind of. A couple of years ago, after I finished with the marines, I joined the police academy here in San Francisco. I went through the academy and became a patrolman, I responded to a call of 'horrendous' smell in an apartment complex. I called in Homicide, that's how I met James. One year later, we were married. I became pregnant and while I was home, I learned that I had gotten promoted to detective. James was thrilled and threw a party," Cynthia chuckled, "He always made everything seem better."

"What happened?"

"He was called out while I was on maternity leave, seven months along, to track down a suspect. I never thought that might have been the last time I would see him alive. He was gunned down by the suspect," she rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, struggling to keep the tears in, "A month later, I gave birth to a girl, Melina, she died a few hours after she was born. I started my work at the Major Crimes Unit as a detective after two months."

"It's hard, losing people you love," Gibbs said quietly, as she continued to stare into the fire.

"You lost someone?"

"Yeah, my daughter and first wife."

"I'm sorry."

"It was years ago," he replied, "Tell me about Anna."

Cynthia chuckled again, "You would have liked her, she could annoy even Tony. I met her while I was still in Major Crimes, we became fast friends. Her name was actually Anna Beth, but everyone just called her Anna. She died in my arms after being shot."

"How long ago was this?"

"Three weeks," the tears flowed down her cheeks and she didn't bother to stop them. Gibbs scooted closer and wrapped one arm around her shoulders, letting her cry.

0oo0oo0

Sorry for the long wait, guys, but I had a ton of stuff going on. I hope you enjoy it!

D


End file.
